


What They Didn't Know

by der_tanzer



Series: Protective Custody [17]
Category: Riptide (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-19
Updated: 2010-05-19
Packaged: 2017-10-09 14:10:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/88307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/der_tanzer/pseuds/der_tanzer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Murray and Ted think they're keeping a secret.  But who's fooling whom?</p>
            </blockquote>





	What They Didn't Know

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tinx_r](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinx_r/gifts).



> Written for lgbtfest. Prompt--A same-sex relationship that was thought to be secret is found to be common knowledge—how do the characters deal with that?  
> Minor violence, but not hate related.  
> 

Murray slid out of bed in the chill darkness, shivering as he pulled on his pants and hunted for his shirt.

_Oh, right, in the other room._

And his glasses—where were they? He squinted his way to the living room where Quinlan had begun undressing him on the couch the night before (which was, what, about five hours ago?), and promptly ran into the coffee table. Stifling a curse, he grabbed the table to keep from falling and felt his glasses under his hand. He put them on and that helped a little, but it was still dark and he didn't dare turn on a light. Not at three-thirty in the morning. Not when the neighbors knew Ted didn't get up until five.

He found his t-shirt a moment later and struggled into it, remembering too late that he should have taken his glasses off first. His flannel shirt was around here somewhere—ah, flung over the floor lamp. And his jacket hung neatly by the front door. Hanging it up when he came in having been his final organized act of the night. Murray put it on and slipped out the door, locking it behind him with the key that not even Nick and Cody knew he had.

It was nearly a mile back to the boat, but he got there before the sun came up, and without seeing anyone along the way.

***

Quinlan called at ten and asked if they were too busy to meet him for lunch at _Straightaway's_. He was working a case and wanted some input; he might even hire them to help out if they had the time, and Murray said _yes, of course_. There probably really was a case, but Murray saw past that. Quinlan was calling from work, and saying it was for a case would allay any suspicion if his coworkers were listening, just as having Nick and Cody there would make it look better at lunch.

"Did he say what the case was?" Nick asked when Murray told them about the call.

"No, just that the department's buying our lunch. We don't have anything else going on, do we?"

"Not until evening. We have that stakeout at the warehouse, but that's it," Cody said, handing him a cup of coffee. Staying up half the night and sneaking out before dawn had the little guy looking tired and pale. "Are you going to be up for it?"

"Sure, Cody. No problem. I'll just catch a nap after lunch."

"Or maybe before?" Nick suggested, raising one eyebrow.

"No, I have too much to do. I told Ted we'd meet him at twelve-thirty and I'm absolutely buried in paperwork right now." He took his coffee and went back to his room.

"How much longer are we gonna have to keep double dating with Murray and Ted?" Nick asked as Cody sat down at the table. "Haven't we been doing it long enough?"

"I don't know. They're still trying to be subtle, to protect Quinlan's image. And we can get a free meal out of it."

"Yeah, but isn't it time someone told them?"

"I'm not going to. Anyway, maybe they don't want to know."

Nick considered the power and comfort of denial, and shrugged. "Okay, but I'm having steak. This gravy train could derail any time and I don't want to have any regrets."

***

Nick and Cody sat side by side at the table at _Straightaway's_, Murray across from them in his usual spot. Quinlan came in a few minutes later and pulled up a chair equidistant between Murray and Cody. He ordered a beer and tried to decide which way to look. Nick solved it for him by speaking first.

"So what's the big case, Lieutenant? Somebody stealing candy from babies again?"

"You know, that's a lot harder than people seem to think," Murray said. "I mean, they scream and cry, and those little fingers can really hold on. Not that they're stronger than adults, but you don't want to hurt them. Once, when Melba was about a year and a half old, I tried to take a candy cane away from her, one that she'd pulled off the Christmas tree, and she bit me. It got infected and—"

"Really?" Quinlan interrupted. "If I bite you, will you shut up?"

"Well, probably not," he said thoughtfully. "But you were going to say something."

"Yeah, I was hoping to. Here's the deal. There's been a lot of vandalism over at the high school these past couple weeks and we don't have enough officers to stay on top of it. I want you guys to set up some kind of surveillance and get me pictures of the kids responsible."

"You're sure it's kids?" Nick asked.

"Taxpayers don't vandalize schools, Ryder. It's gonna be disgruntled students, or maybe dropouts. Hopefully at least one of 'em's got a record."

"And you called us over here for that?" Cody asked with a wicked grin. "You could have told Murray over the phone."

"Or last night, before he snuck out," Nick added.

"Shut it," Quinlan hissed. Murray blushed, which wasn't unusual, and his friends laughed. They managed to pull straight faces when the waitress returned with their drinks, and Ted's cold stare prevented another comment from following. "I want to hear about how you're gonna do it," he said and sipped his beer.

That was Murray's cue to say something useful and he chattered happily about cameras and monitors for a good ten minutes, hardly pausing to place his order. This was why Quinlan had wanted to meet in person, so he could watch Murray's animated expression as he shared the one thing he was really good at. Well, the one thing he was good at that he could do in public.

When the waitress brought their food, Murray stopped talking just long enough to eat. Ted didn't stop watching him, though, finding that mobile mouth equally attractive in both scenarios.

Teri returned to the bar with her tray and nudged her friend Renee in the ribs.

"Aren't they sweet?" she whispered.

"Who?"

"Dr. Bozinsky and the lieutenant. They're the cutest couple since Nick and Cody came to town."

"Yeah," Renee giggled. "Who'd have thought Quinlan would go for a little geek like him? But they _are_ adorable. I love that you never see them out together unless they're part of a group."

"I know, right? It's like they think it's a secret or something."

"Well, he _is_ a cop. They probably have some kind of rules."

***

Quinlan returned to the station at half past one, smiling in a way he was rarely known to do without having first seriously screwed up someone's day. He was whistling as he went to his office and shut the door, looking forward to catching the vandals, even if it did mean he wouldn't have Murray with him for the next few nights. But they might be able to arrange a meeting of some kind, he thought. Even an hour in the Motel 6 on the highway would be better than nothing.

Sergeant Fry passed by the office door, busy giving orders to a patrolman, and paused when he heard the cheery whistle from within.

"The lieutenant sure sounds happy. I wonder if he just busted a Girl Scout troop or something."

"Probably just got laid," the patrolman said, offhand.

"Funny."

"Well, he just got back from lunch with his little boyfriend. Maybe they had time for a quickie in the john."

"Hey, that's your commanding officer you're talking about," Fry reminded him. Then his stern expression softened into a smile. "But yeah, probably. It's ridiculous how crazy he is about that guy, and he thinks we don't notice."

"Well, officially we don't, right? I mean, that could be real trouble for him, couldn't it?"

"Could get him killed. So let's keep it under our hats, just in case there's one person in the department who doesn't know."

"Yet," the patrolman added. Fry nodded and they moved on.

***

The warehouse job wrapped up that night, right on schedule, with Murray getting excellent video footage of an employee loading crates of small appliances into an unmarked truck. The three detectives slept late the next day, then turned the video over to their client in exchange for payment, and began preparing for the high school surveillance. Murray found an excuse to call Ted at home before they went out for the night, and he was in a good mood when they piled into the car with his equipment.

An hour before sundown, the cameras were in place and Cody parked the Jimmy around the corner, out of sight. He and Nick slouched down in the front seat, hats pulled low over their eyes, while Murray lay down in the back, resting until he was needed. It wasn't long.

They were expecting the same routine kind of job as at the warehouse, taping the kids spray painting graffiti and breaking bottles, and turning the evidence over to the police. But when the kids showed up, it immediately took a different tack. There were four big boys, juniors or seniors, and one smaller kid who looked scared, even on camera. Murray used his remotes to track them as they moved around the building, smashing liquor bottles against the bricks and painting over windows.

"Guys, this looks like it's going too far," he said quietly. "I know we're just supposed to catch them on tape, but this looks expensive. Shouldn't we try to stop them?"

"What do you want to do, arrest them?" Nick asked rhetorically. "We don't have any authority here, Boz."

"But we're citizens witnessing a crime. Aren't we obligated to do something?"

"Murray, buddy, we're working for the police here," Cody reminded him. "We're doing our part already."

"I guess," he said doubtfully. But when one of the bigger boys put a spray can in the smallest kid's hands, they started paying more attention. It looked like they were arguing about it, and Murray wished he'd put up microphones, too.

"Okay, this isn't right," Nick said suddenly. On the monitor, the older kids were shoving the younger one, and he threw the spray can away. One of the big boys hit him and he went down hard with the kind of bone rattling impact that Murray, having been a skinny kid himself, knew all too well. When the boy didn't get up, Murray climbed out of the Jimmy and started down the street toward them. He had no idea what he was going to do when he got there, but he knew something would come to him. And he knew his friends would follow, so even if he failed to come up with an idea, the situation would be handled.

"Hey, you kids stop that!" he shouted as he rounded the corner and saw one of the big boys kicking the one on the ground. Nick and Cody were close behind him, but not quite close enough. Murray didn't have it in him to pull a gun on teenagers, and his words weren't much of a threat. One of the boys spun on him, spraying him in the face with red paint. His glasses protected his eyes from the worst of it, but the paint coated the lenses and blinded him just the same. Someone hit him, and then there was a surprised shout from the kids as his friends waded in.

Murray staggered back out of the way, pulling off his glasses and trying not to rub paint in his eyes. He heard the rattle cans clatter on the sidewalk but didn't know where they were until he stepped on one. It rolled under his foot and he fell awkwardly, pinwheeling his arms for balance. His left hand hit the concrete and his forearm gave with a wet snap that was audible even over his screams. Nick dropped the kid he was holding and knelt on the sidewalk, already yelling for Cody to get help. Murray heard footsteps running in all directions and didn't try to move. Then Nick's arm was around him, helping him to sit up, his voice a low rumble in Murray's ear, asking if he was all right.

"My arm's broken," he said shakily. "But I'm okay. How's the boy? Did they hurt him?"

"I'm okay," the remaining kid said from somewhere off to their right. "But, dude, I heard that snap. It was _ugly_."

"What were you even doing here?" Nick demanded.

"Don't get mad at him," Murray pleaded inanely.

"He got your arm broken."

"I did that myself. Where's Cody?"

"Calling an ambulance, of course. Can you even see?"

"Not without my glasses. But I'm okay, Nick. Just don't get mad."

"Those guys," the kid said suddenly, "they're supposed to be my friends. They said this was an initiation thing. I could hang out with them if I helped. But I didn't know what they were doing."

"That why he hit you? Because you didn't want to do it?" Nick asked, more gently this time.

"Yeah. I'm sure glad you guys showed up when you did. But I'm sorry you got hurt, dude."

"Don't worry about it," Murray said and promptly fainted.

***

Quinlan met them at the hospital, leaving it to the patrolmen to run down the teenage perpetrators. Ted was less worried about them than he was about Murray, and planned to get his revenge later, when they were in court.

"What are you two doing out here?" he asked when he saw Nick and Cody in the waiting room.

"Doctor wouldn't let us stay," Cody told him. "Family only. You know the drill."

"We'll see about that," he said grimly and turned on his heel.

"Looks like he's getting in," Nick said with a weak smile.

"Did you ever doubt him?"

Murray was still unconscious when Ted got there, and for a second he mistook the red paint on his lover's face for blood. In that instant he didn't know whether he was going to throw up or kill someone, and then he realized that the "blood" was high gloss. Automotive paint, most likely. His head swam with relief and he leaned against a counter, acting casual but looking faint.

"Ah, Lieutenant," the doctor said lightly. "If you want to interview the patient, I'm afraid it will have to wait. He isn't very talkative at the moment."

"First time for everything," Quinlan said, hiding his concern behind cruelty. "He gonna be okay?"

"Oh, yes, fine and dandy. We'll set this arm and clean some of the paint off, and he can go home tonight."

"Go home? He's not even conscious and you want to send him home?"

"It's just from the pain, and the painkillers. He didn't hit his head and he hasn't lost any blood. I promise you, he's fine."

"Huh," was the noncommittal reply. "Mind if I hang around anyway?"

"No, sir. Just so long as you don't interfere with the staff, you can do whatever you like."

Quinlan levered himself up onto the counter and watched the doctor put Murray's arm in a cast while a nurse washed his still face with some harsh-smelling chemical. Ted wanted to tell her to be careful and not get it in Murray's eyes, but the warning was unnecessary. She left circles of red a half inch wide around the delicate tissue, and when Quinlan asked, told him that it would wear off in time. She did dip her fingers in warm water and pulled as much paint out of his eyelashes as she could, though a few lashes came out, too. Quinlan winced on his behalf, but took comfort from the fact that Murray couldn't feel it.

"So, is this official business, or is the good doctor a friend?"

"It's official. Geek-boy tried to stop an assault and got his ass kicked. I need to get his statement as soon as he wakes up."

The doctor looked at Quinlan's pale face and jittery hands, exchanged a glance with the nurse, and went back to work with a small smile. Quinlan didn't see it and wouldn't have understood if he had. He only had eyes for Murray, and no room in his thoughts for anything else.

Murray began to stir as the doctor finished wrapping his arm. The nurse raised the head of his bed a little, and after a moment, Murray opened his eyes. He blinked rapidly and reached up to rub his eyes with his right hand. Quinlan slid off the counter and caught his wrist smoothly, restraining him without force.

"Don't do that, Bozinsky. Paint's not quite dry and you'll get it in your eyes."

"Paint?" he repeated vaguely. "Oh, right. Did he ruin my glasses?"

"I don't know. We can probably get 'em cleaned."

"But I can't see."

"I know. Don't worry, we'll take care of it."

"But—but I can't see."

"You have an extra pair, right? One of the guys will find them for you, and you don't need to see anything tonight anyway." He had forgotten that he was still holding Murray's wrist and turned to the doctor without letting go. "When can he leave?"

"Need to get that statement, right? How about a half hour to let the plaster dry? We'll start processing the papers and you can stay here and keep him from touching his eyes." He exchanged another look with the nurse, still unnoticed by Quinlan, who probably would have gotten angry this time, and she smiled back. They left the cubicle together and Quinlan closed the curtain behind them.

"Statement?" Murray whispered. "Do we need to talk about it tonight?"

"No, I just had to say something to get them to let me in. How're you doing, kid?"

"I can't see."

"Are you still on that?" His hand slid down to grip Murray's and he held on gently.

"Am I—_yes_, I'm still on that. Where are my glasses?"

"In evidence. We'll find your old ones tonight and get you a new pair as soon as we can."

"Oh. Ted, I'm—I'm confused. Can I go home soon?"

"Sure, as soon as your cast is set. You want me to get your friends?"

"In a minute. Is that kid okay?"

"Yeah. He's got some bruises but nothing's broken. You saved him from a real beating there, babe."

"Oh. Good," he said vaguely. "Will you stay with me, Ted? I—I don't like this."

"I know. It'll be okay, though. I won't leave you."

On the other side of the curtain, the nurse turned to the doctor and winked.

"Did you ever see a cuter couple?" she whispered.

"Not in that age bracket," he said dryly.

"Don't be such a fuddy-duddy. They're adorable."

"All right, if you say so. But keep it to yourself, will you? He's a cop; he doesn't need that kind of trouble."

"What, you think it's possible for anyone who's ever been within ten feet of them to not notice?" she laughed. The doctor gave her a stern look and she shrugged. "Fine. If you think they think it's a secret, I won't tell."

***

Murray was still wobbly from the painkillers when they left the hospital, and Quinlan held his good arm all the way to the car. It was agreed that he would stay with Ted tonight so he wouldn't have to try to manage on the stairs, but they went to the pier first to gather some of his things. He waited in Ted's car while Nick and Cody found his pajamas and spare glasses. The prescription was old and he couldn't see very well, but it was better than nothing.

The porch light was out at Quinlan's house and he pulled up into the driveway, the front bumper nearly kissing the garage door. One day he'd have to clean out the garage so he could park inside, but lacking that, the cover of darkness would have to do. It was midnight, after all, and only the insomniac older couple across the street had any lights on. He decided it was safe enough under the circumstances to help Murray out of the car and walk him to the door with one strong arm around his narrow waist. Murray leaned heavily on his shoulder, murmuring nonsense words of affection and thanks.

Across the street, Mrs. Liebgott was standing at her kitchen sink, looking out the window as she filled a glass with water. Mr. Liebgott, who'd been watching TV in the living room, came in to see what was keeping her.

"Lieutenant Quinlan finally got home," she said. "It must have been a bad night. He brought that sweet Dr. Bozinsky with him, but it looks like he's hurt. You'd think the lieutenant could protect his own boyfriend a little better."

"You know how Dr. Bozinsky is. He gets into trouble faster than anyone I ever heard of, and it's all the lieutenant can do to clean up after him. I doubt anyone could prevent it."

"Well, it's good they have each other. Lieutenant Quinlan was starting to look positively old before he found that boy."

Murray, who would have thought it charming to be called a boy by a woman in her seventies, was at that moment letting Quinlan help him into his pajamas. The old glasses were already giving him a headache and he'd abandoned them in favor of being taken care of. He got into bed and sought a comfortable position on his right side, unsure what to do with his arm. Ted lay down beside him and drew it across his chest, holding the cast in place with one hand and Murray's hand with the other.

"Are you worried about what your neighbors will say tomorrow?" Murray asked softly.

"It's Saturday. We'll just stay inside until the nearest ones go out. No one around here stays home on the weekends."

"Would it really be so bad if people saw us together? I mean, would they necessarily assume we were a couple? And even if they did…"

"It would be a disaster," he said flatly. "It'd ruin both our careers and maybe get us killed. Or you, at least. No, this has to stay a secret, just like your friends."

"If you say so," Murray sighed. "But I still think people are more understanding than you give them credit for."

"No, they ain't. Now go to sleep, kid. I want you rested up in the morning."

"Sure, Ted. I'm pretty tired, anyway. Keeping secrets is hard work."


End file.
